The Man and the Lamb
by The Wild West Pyro
Summary: Set in one of the many Alternate Universes in Bioshock. Based on the idea that there are an infinite number of Universes. What if Booker and Elizabeth visited Rapture again? What if they met Jack? What if Jack and Elizabeth fell in love with each other? And would Booker really approve? Read to find out! Image courtesy of Goddamn Splicers on deviantArt.


HELLO BIOSHOCK FANDOM! This is my first fanfic.

Just a few words:

-This started off as a simple idea, but it'll probably develop into a story if I can work my crazy ideas into the plot.

-This does not contain any BookerxElizabeth-I personally feel that the Father/Daughter relationship is much more adorable than the romantic one.

-Booker and Elizabeth look like their ingame models, but click on the cover picture to see what Jack looks like. Kudos goes to Goddamn Splicers on deviantArt for doing that lovely picture! (She should really have more comments on her pictures-they're awesome.)

-And yes, this includes ElizabethxJack. Yeah sure, it's a crack ship, but they should meet in another DLC…right?

-Oh, and this includes some extra bits I made up that's not in the game.

-Finally, some characters may be OOC. Please inform me if I've got any OOCness and what I can do to improve it.

WARNING: HUGE SPOILERS FOR BIOSHOCK INFINITE!

_The Sea of Doors, 1912._

Booker was still in shock.

Elizabeth was his _daughter._

And he'd sold her…sold her to a live of isolation, locked up in that horrible tower for so long…for 20 years, under the watch of Songbird and that bastard Comstock.

What kind of father was he?

A terrible one…an uncaring one…one of those fathers who were always drunk, bringing misery to their children-

NO. Don't think about that.

He shook that bad scenario out of his mind. He would NEVER abuse his daughter.

And despite everything he was, despite the fact that he was a murderer and a thug, too brutal for the Pinkertons, Elizabeth still…liked him.

She'd constantly given him ammo, salts, and money. She'd saved his life many times. She'd saved him in Battleship Bay. She'd even persuaded him to change some of his ways and become a better person.

And apparently some other people thought so too. The innocent Irishman and black woman he was going to stone-he had saved them and they had given him gear, and thanked him later on. It reminded him of the time when there was a strike, and he'd helped that Chinese family escape from the gunfire in the streets.

As for Slate…Slate still had faith in him. Booker was a broken man, from his alcohol and tobacco abuse, selling his daughter, bullied by his fellow Pinkertons and most of all, the Wounded Knee massacre. He'd burned down tents with innocent women and children inside, and even collected scalps, something only the "savage" Indians were supposed to do, when actually the US Army had done it first.

But when he decided to kill Slate, to save him from whatever that sonofabitch Fink was going to do, Slate had looked him in the eye, and told him this.

"They haven't changed you, Booker. Not…one…bit."

Then he smiled at Booker.

Instantly, Booker remembered that smile.

_He was in the barracks at the fort, age 22 and terrified, backed up against the wall, trying to hide, raising his Huntsman to block the missiles thrown at him. Rocks, pieces of wood, nails, hitting him on the head, opening cuts, the warm blood trickling down his head. He blocked some of them, but he couldn't block the jeers, the curses, the cruel words, slashing his soul, shattering his self esteem into ten thousand pieces._

"_White Injun, huh? Get out of the army, freak! Go home to your fucking tent and smoke your stupid pipe!"_

"_It's bitches like you who started all this! Murdering us, stealing our cattle, massacring women and children!"_

"_You'll never be a soldier! You're a freak!"_

"_What shall we call you? He-who-is-an-Injun? He-who-scalps-us? He-who-doesn't-belong-in-the-fucking-army?"_

"_Did your mom mate with some ugly Indian man? Were you born in some tepee? Did they teach you to scalp, fucker?"_

"_Scalp? That's a good idea!"_

_"I saw some Indian boys takin' scalps on the Plains."_

"_Hey, get your axes! Show this savage Private what it feels like."_

_They'd grabbed his head and pushed it roughly into the grass, and raised their axes to strike at his head before a voice boomed out and a battle-scarred hand grabbed it._

"_WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"_

_Slate had gotten out his fully upgraded Huntsman and smashed a good many skulls before they could scalp Booker._

_When the other privates were lying on the ground clutching their heads, Slate had helped Booker up._

"_You okay, son?"_

_Booker had simply nodded, silent tears rolling down his cheeks._

"_That's some nasty head wounds there. Not as bad as I've seen in the Civil War, but it's still quite bad. Let's take you to the Medic, Private."_

_When Booker was sitting in his tent, head bandaged and nail-free, he peeked out of the flap and noticed Slate marching up and down, doing his trademark bellowing at his tormentors._

"_DISGRACEFUL!" roared Slate._

"_UN-ACCEPTABLE! Against army regulations! Hazing! Bullying! This will NOT be TOLERATED! You deserve be to lynched! Filled with arrows! SCALPED! We should get our prisoners to scalp you and pile them up on a rock! That's what we did! Back in my day, we never hazed anyone! Why, we were all part of the Union. It didn't matter if they were Injun, Negro, Irish, Limeys, Chinese-all that mattered is that we fought for FREEDOM! And look at this now! Beating a man just because he's half Injun! What did Jefferson say? Everyone is EQUAL! The Army accepted everyone! And look now! Racism! Bullying! Misery! We're losing recruits because of fags like YOU! YOU! YOU! AND YOU! AND YOU AS WELL!"_

"_Hey, you may be a war hero, but you're a shi-"_

_There was the sound of a punch and a scream._

"_YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT! YOU WILL BE ON KITCHEN DUTY FOR FOUR WEEKS! I'VE SEEN MORE ACTION THAN YOU COWARDS EVER HAVE! HE'S HALF-INJUN! HALF, D'YOU HERE ME? HE'S STILL AMERICAN! AND HE'S CERTAINLY NOT A SAVAGE, HE'S A MAN! AND YOU TREAT HIM LIKE A SLAVE! I'VE SEEN SLAVES ON THE PLANTATION BEING SCALPED BY CONFEDERATES! YOU!"_

_Another punch and another shriek._

"_IT IS TRUE! THEY DID THAT! AND I WAS THERE AS A CORPORAL AND I'M PROUD TO CONFIRM IT! YOU ALL ARE TO BE FLOGGED TODAY AND ON KITCHEN DUTY, FOR SIX WEEKS! YOU WILL NOT HAVE A DAY OFF! YOU WILL BE WORKED UNTIL YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD IN THE FIELD, CANNONBALLS SMASHED INTO YOUR STOMACH, BAYONETS IN YOUR CHEST, BULLETS IN YOUR EYES! NOW GO CLEAN UP THE DISHES BEFORE DINNER!"_

_The recruits walked off grumbling._

_During dinner, Slate turned to Booker._

"_Listen, Private Dewitt, if they ever trouble you again, come to my tent. It's the one in the fourth row, seventh from the left."_

_He smiled again._

Booker had put a Broadsider round through Slate's brain.

He remembered the old man lying there, smiling, like he was at peace at last.

Elizabeth snapped him out of his thoughts by walking over to another door.

"Let's see what this one is…"

The door opened, and with a white flash, they stepped into another universe.

* * *

Jack Ryan was sitting in Tenembaum's safe house when the tear opened.

He had just found out his entire life was a lie. He'd just killed his real father under the command of Atlas, who turned out to be Frank Fontaine, responsible for making his father murder his mother.

Now, Fontaine, according to Tenembaum, who had known him closely before, was probably splicing himself up to become a super-strong splicer. She suspected it was based on the statues of huge, muscular men around Rapture, decorating the lobby and buildings-Fontaine had always liked those. Tenembaum was modifying the Big Daddy suit with the help of some Little Sisters that Jack had to wear in order to fight Fontaine.

Jack was currently putting his worries behind and playing with the Little Sisters he had rescued.

They bounced a ball along the floor and occasionally tried to sit on it, with hilarious results. They built up toy blocks into different things-a Big Daddy, the Kashmir Restaurant, a Bathysphere, and they somehow managed to build a surprisingly good bust of Andrew Ryan. They also cuddled their Big Daddy dolls and had tea parties with them.

Some of the Bouncer and Rosie Big Daddies-about twenty of them-who had been hypnotized by Jack had followed him to the safe house and were now playing with the girls in the large playroom, lights glowing green. Jack watched as the Little Sisters drew chalk drawings on their suits, held tea parties, played Snakes and Ladders and clapped as their "Mr. Bubbles" made masterpieces out of Lego bricks.

At the moment, a Bouncer was playing dress up with some of the Little Sisters, and his friends were desperately trying not to laugh as the Bouncer pranced around dressed as Little Bo Peep.

Tenembaum had also gotten hold of some children's books Fontaine had smuggled into Rapture and now some of the more knowledgeable Little Sisters were teaching their Big Daddies how to read and write.

Just then, there was a huge crackling noise. The Little Sisters ran to the nearest Big Daddy or Jack and huddled around them, frightened as a huge white crack, blazing with energy, appeared in the wall. The Big Daddies moved into a corner so they could have more firing range at whatever was going to come out.

"What is it Mr. B?"

"I'm scared, Uncle Jack!"

"Is it a evil angel with that scary melting face?"

"Have they come to get us?"

The Big Daddies responded by loading their Machine Guns, Spear Guns, Rivet Guns or simply revving up their Drills with one hand while the other hugged the little girls. Their eyes were yellow now. It meant "Danger! Something's going to come out and hurt my daughter! I won't let that happen!"

Tenembaum had stopped working to look, as the crack in the wall widened to reveal two figures, a man and a girl. They closed a door behind them.

Jack watched. It was like one of those new 3D Movies, except this time the people were real and not actors, and they were actually coming out of the screen. He let a Big Daddy take care of the Little Sisters that were huddling around "Uncle Jack", then polished his Wrench, loaded his Pistol and checked his Tommy Gun. Wrench in hand, he stepped into the middle of the room as the man walked closer to them.

To Jack's astonishment, the man's arm reached _through _the tear and into the room. The Little Sisters now hid behind the Big Daddies while the diving-suited golems aimed their weapons or spun their Drills.

The crack opened wider and wider, revealing a man in ridiculously outdated clothing, clutching a Mauser C96, climbing through the tear and into the room.

* * *

Booker Dewitt raised his Broadsider and surveyed his surroundings.

He was in some sort of playroom, covered in drawings and posters, and full of little girls. For some reason they held oversized syringes and they were hiding behind what seemed to be a sort of advanced Handyman-with drills instead of giant fists, or guns, and in what seemed to be diving suits.

Then, one of the advanced Handymen raised his machine gun and started firing.

Booker immediately dodged and used the Bucking Bronco vigor on the diving suit Handyman. It flung him across the room.

The advanced Handyman was immediately caught by twenty of the little girls, who pushed him back up and yelled "Unzip him, Mr. B!"

Booker noticed the advanced Handyman was wearing a ridiculous looking dress and bonnet that was two sizes too small, and had chalk drawings decorating his suit.

The Handyman got back up again and raised his machine gun to fire.

Then a young man stepped forward.

He was quite handsome, with chocolate-brown hair, sideburns that were just about right, skin the colour of a ripe peach, a few long scars on his cheeks that made him look dashing, a light brown-cream bloodstained sweater, brown loafers and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal perfect biceps, and for some reason, he had tattoos of chains on his wrists. His veins seemed to be running with something brown, not red.

"Mr. Toby Bubbles?"

A grunt came as a response.

"Stay back and protect your daughters, Toby. I'll handle this."

Instantly, the young man raised the Wrench in his hand, crackling with what could be the Shock Jockey vigor, and charged at him.

Booker was caught off guard at first. The Wrench crashed into his skull, and Booker felt electricity crackle painfully across his head. The impact sent him flying into a pile of bricks.

Booker groaned and got back up as the young man in the bloody sweater charged again. There was only one thing to do now-

He yelled "CHARGE!" and immediately his hand turned from cracked and bleeding to swirling with wind and lightning. He holstered his Broadsider, took out his Skyhook and ran towards the young man.

The impact sent the young man flying across the room and into the ceiling, landing in a painful heap on the ground, blood leaking from his head. The little girls gasped.

"Uncle Jack!"

Immediately, Booker snagged the young man's sweater with his Skyhook and slammed him against the wall. The man dropped his Wrench. Booker unholstered his Broadsider and poked it into the man's tummy.

"I want to know" said Booker with gritted teeth, "who the _fuck _you are, what the hell is this place and what those little girls are. WHERE ARE WE?"

He smashed his Broadsider butt into the young man's head, causing more blood to shoot out. He'd often done that in interrogations. Who cares if the other soft Pinkertons thought it was too brutal? It got Booker a lot more information than the normal techniques.

"BOOKER! STOP!"

Booker turned to see his daughter racing through the tear.

"Stop! He was just trying to defend those little girls…"

Booker released the young man, who was barely conscious, and turned to Elizabeth.

"Where are we?"

"That city at the bottom of the sea we just drowned Songbird in."

Booker's eyes widened.

"WHAT?"

* * *

Tenembaum bandaged Jack's head as the strange man and his daughter sat outside.

She did not know what had happened, or who the man and girl were, but they knew they came from some other times.

The Nazis had tried to do Time Travel and failed, yet these two seemed to be good at it.

She would ask them questions later-Jack would have to talk with them first.

There was a little knock on the door. Tenembaum opened the door, and saw a Little Sister come in timidly.

"Will Uncle Jack turn into an angel?"

"No, mein child. He will survive."

The Little Sister beamed.

"So will we get to play with him?"

"Yes, soon. He will talk first."

"But the bad man will hurt him!"

"Do not worry-I have feeling that the man is not bad, child. And I think the girl will keep him in check-is that how they say it? Anyway, go play with your Mr. Bubbles. And polish your shoes!"

The little girl nodded and hurried off to polish her shoes with her guardian, who was waiting with shoe polish, and had a queue of little girls with dusty and bloodstained shoes waiting.

* * *

Jack woke up with a massive head pain.

His head throbbed from where the weird grappling hook thing hand had smacked his skull.

He tried to get up, but something held him down.

"Stay still. Your head's still bleeding."

Jack looked up and his eyes widened.

The most beautiful girl he had ever seen was sitting on his bed.

Her hair was brown, short but almost reaching to her shoulders. A beautiful, ornate choker rested on her slim neck, showing a bird. She wore a dark blue jacket and matching dress with a silver hem, and a white corset under her jacket, exposing her cleavage. She was curvy and slim as well. Jack felt a bit worried about that-the male Splicers, especially the Breadwinner and Toasty ones, would try to harm her.

"W-Who are you?"

She smiled. Jack felt his cheeks grow warm. She looked beautiful when she smiled.

"I'm Elizabeth."

She gestured to the man in outdated clothing, who was now holding a Winchester 1887 Shotgun that seemed to be heavily modified.

"And that's my father, Booker."

The man looked up and grunted, then went back to cleaning his Shotgun.

"Don't worry-he's got a bit of a grudge after you struck him."

Jack stood up.

" Come with me. I'll explain everything."

The girl nodded and beckoned for her father to come.

* * *

They walked through the dark streets towards the Kashmir Restaurant. Booker carried his China Broom Shotgun, Jack had his Tommy Gun out and Elizabeth held a Huntsman Carbine.

Along the way, Elizabeth told Jack about their adventures, with Booker adding bits along the way.

Jack was amazed. He never thought there would be a place worse than Rapture, but here was one. In Rapture, all you had to deal with were Splicers and Big Daddies. In Columbia, you had to fight waves of soldiers, crazed revolutionaries, Ku Klux Klan ripoffs, a screaming ghost, masked inmates, men wearing Ned Kelly helmets, men in special suits throwing fireballs, boys that could hear everything, a clockwork Founding Father or American President with a minigun and a Big Daddy-type who had giant fists and was aware of what he'd been turned into. In Rapture, you had to deal with people crazy on ADAM-but in Columbia, people were turned into heartless monsters from what they _believed _in. And while Rapture, in its heyday, accepted everyone, no matter who or what they were, Columbia was racist, homophobic, xenophobic, fanatically religious and imperialistic. In short, Columbia was probably everything Jack's father would have hated.

They finally reached the restaurant. They ordered lunch and ate, exchanging their adventures.

While Booker went to scavenge around Rapture and eat out of trash cans, Jack and Elizabeth were free to chat.

Jack soon found that Elizabeth was _everything_ he wanted in a girl. She was smart and pretty at the same time. She knew a lot of things that would have helped him in his adventures-lockpicking, finding money and ammo, coordinates-and she did know how to look after herself. Jack would have paid ten dollars to see her kick Atlas in the groin.

They also had a lot in common. Their fathers were evil dictators who used to be good but went drunk on power, their mothers were killed by their husbands, they were isolated for a long time, they never had a proper childhood and they were separated from their real parents.

Jack also loved the way she looked. Her laugh, her eyes, her natural beauty that Steinman would have loved if he wasn't so insane, and her smile. Her smile was the most beautiful thing about her.

* * *

Elizabeth found out that she really, really liked Jack.

He was handsome and adorable at the same time-he was a child in the body of an adult. He was 20, the same age as her, but should actually have been 4 at the time.

He had suffered a lot as well-forced into hijacking a plane-some wonderful invention that let you travel in the skies comfortably, like an airship but faster and less flammable-and killing everyone in board except him, being controlled and manipulated by someone he thought was a friend, tricked into murdering his own father and now found out that his entire life was a lie. And he'd ended up in a place that had gone wrong, where most of the population were "spliced" or dead or insane.

She wanted to hug him so badly, but she knew it wasn't the right time.

He was quite good looking-perfect sculpted body due to all the genetic testing, brown hair she ran her hand through a few times, his adorable eyes-and she liked it.

She was also happy when she found out Jack also liked to read-he'd gone to the many Rapture bookstores several times-and was delighted when he handed quite a few books to her. There was one that interested her-Atlas Shrugged, by someone called Ayn Rand.

They sat and read books, exchanging details occasionally.

Elizabeth checked the time. Two hours were gone. It was almost time for her to go.

Then she realized Jack was holding her hands.

"Um…just before you go…"

He blushed.

"I hope to see you again some day."

Elizabeth smiled, a warm feeling growing inside her.

"Me too…"

And to Jack's surprise, she kissed him in the cheek.

Jack returned the favour by putting his arms round her trim waist affectionately and putting his head on her shoulder. His father used to do it with Jasmine Jolene when he was younger.

Unfortunately, Booker came in and thought they were going to do…something else.

"YOU!"

Jack turned as Booker charged and sent him crashing into a few tables.

"GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!"

Booker disarmed Jack, threw his fully upgraded Tommy Gun across the room and attacked him with his Shotgun butt. Then, Booker slammed the Skyhook into Jack's chest, still whirring. Jack tried his best not to scream as the hook tore through flesh and bone. He tried to tug it out and succeeded, throwing it at Booker. Booker picked it up and Jack cracked him on the head with his Pistol butt. Instead, Booker picked his Broadsider up and charged. And this time Jack crashed through the window of the Kashmir Restaurant.

As he fell, he saw Booker raise his Broadsider to shoot, and Elizabeth run over and open a tear…

Then a pair of big, warm hands caught Jack, and Jack passed out in pain.

* * *

When Jack woke up, he was in the safe house, in the arms of a Big Daddy-a Rosie to be specific.

"Thanks, Andrew."

The Big Daddy grunted in happiness and pointed at the other bunk, where Elizabeth was now arguing with Booker.

"-he wasn't going to do that!"

"YES HE WAS! He was moving his hands around your corset!"

"No he wasn't!"

"Yes he was!"

"Why, Booker? Why are you so overprotective?"

Booker sighed.

"You're my daughter. You were harmed for 20 years, and I don't what it to happen again. Now open a tear. We're leaving!"

Elizabeth reluctantly opened a tear, and let Booker enter it first.

Then she turned.

"Hey Jack! CATCH!"

She flung him her handkerchief and blew him a kiss as she went through the Tear.

Jack ran to thank her, but the tear closed and she was gone.

He looked sadly at the handkerchief in his hands. It was blue, with a pattern of the Songbird flying. Her initials, in lace, were on it-E.

He breathed in the scent. Suddenly he felt refreshed. The pain went away.

He recognized the scent-the perfume she wore every now and then, she had told him.

He breathed in it a bit deeper this time, and instantly, in his mind, he saw Elizabeth and Booker rowing towards another Lighthouse.

Elizabeth turned and saw him, and waved her hand shyly.

Jack waved, and then the image faded.

Jack realized the handkerchief was glowing with white electricity, like the tears. Then he realized it.

He couldn't see her, but he could use the handkerchief to see what she was doing whenever he wanted to see her.

Just then, Tenembaum stepped into the room. The Big Daddy stood to attention. Jack pocketed the handkerchief.

"Come, child. The suit is ready."


End file.
